


Stay With Me

by Queen_of_the_Jellyfish, Swaggy_Horseface



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: AU, Allura is Lance's mom, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Bisexual Lance (Voltron), Blood, Crying, Cuban Lance (Voltron), Depressed Keith (Voltron), Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst, Gay Keith (Voltron), Homophobia, Hurt/Comfort, Japanese Shiro (Voltron), Korean Keith (Voltron), M/M, Mutual Pining, Panic Attacks, Police Officer Shiro (Voltron), background shallura - Freeform, bad language, keith is poor, klance, klangst, shiro is lance's step dad, strong lance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-12
Updated: 2017-08-18
Packaged: 2018-10-30 19:55:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,288
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10883820
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Queen_of_the_Jellyfish/pseuds/Queen_of_the_Jellyfish, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Swaggy_Horseface/pseuds/Swaggy_Horseface
Summary: After getting kicked out by his parents, Keith barely gets by, working as many hours as he can at McDonald's. But, when he fills in for a night shift worker for some extra cash, all hell breaks loose when someone attempts to rob the place. Fortunately for him, the chief of police's son, Lance, saves him just in time. All Lance wants is to help him get back on his feet. But why does he care so much? Why would he ever want to help someone like Keith?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hey! So I don't really write things, but I wanted to try. This is my first Voltron fic, I really hope you all like it. Please tell me if there are any grammatical mistakes (I checked like 80 billion times but I'm still paranoid). My tumblr is http://2-yuris-1-ice.tumblr.com/
> 
> Enjoy!!

The counter is cold as I rest my arms against it. Work is slow at Mcdonald’s this time of night, the only people that come to get food are usually drunk, high, or both. Today, though, there’s not a person in here except for me, two other coworkers, and a customer. My coworkers, Rolo and Nyma, are in back room somewhere, leaving me to do everything. I’m guessing they’re probably fucking or something, they’ve been dating for about a year now. After Nyma turns eighteen, her and Rolo plan to run away and elope somewhere.

  
I start to notice how quiet it is in here, only the soft hum of the air conditioning filling the silence. This part of the city is dangerous at this time of night. Usually, I’ll hear some sirens or gunshots or something, but it’s pouring rain and nobody’s around outside. I normally don’t work the night shift on Saturdays, but one of the people who does is sick so I took it for some extra cash.

  
As I glance outside the window and look across the street, I can just barely make out the graffiti that paints the boarded up houses. For the millionth time, I read over the curses and names that litter the bricks. My mind starts to wander.

  
It’s been about a year since my parents forcibly removed me from their house, screaming “God doesn’t love faggots like you!” and shoving me out the door. I don’t know what I was expecting, a conservative Korean family would never accept a gay child. Even so, I could never forget the look on my mother’s face, so murderous and evil, unfitting for a woman usually so bright and gentle.

  
For the first month of being on my own, I barely got by. All I had with me were a few pairs of pants and a couple of shirts in a string bag. During the day, I would go and work my shift at McDonald’s. I already had the job when I was living with my parents, so I had at least a little cash with me. Still, I remember practically begging the manager for overtime so I would go home with enough money to at least eat every week. During the night, I stayed at the local homeless shelter, sometimes unlucky enough to get there after it’s been filled. My coworkers never gave two shits about me, never offered any support. Most of the people working there are teenagers that are only doing it to have a little pocket change of their own. Eventually, I found a shabby apartment that was cheap enough for me to afford every month. Not once have my parents tried to contact me; obviously, they don’t care for their son’s well being.

  
The ringing of the door breaks me from my thoughts. A burly looking man approaches the counter and sends chills down my spine. I take my elbows off the counter and stand up straight.

  
“Hi, welcome to McDonald’s. Can I help you?” I ask as he steps towards me. The man squints his eyes and looks around. He then leans over the counter until he’s only about six inches away from my face. His breathing is heavy, and it’s hard not to inhale the stench of his breath.

  
“Hmmmmm,” He says, deep voice raspy like a chain smoker’s. “What would you recommend?”

  
“Um, I-I don’t know, sir,” I stutter, uncomfortable with the lack of space between us. “How about a ten piece Chicken McNugget?” He ignores my suggestion.

  
“What’s your name, son?” The man questions, oblivious to my name tag. He leans back away from my face and puts his sausage like fingers on the counter.

  
“Uh, Keith?” I say, pointing to the Hello, my name is Keith pinned to my shirt. He stands there and stares at it, as if trying to decipher some sort of code.

  
As he stares at me, I notice that he’s about six feet tall, and probably in his fifties. The little hair that he has is almost completely gray, and it hangs limply from his head, like greasy pieces of yarn.

  
“You been workin’ here long?” He finally says.

  
“H—what?”

  
“How long you been workin’ here?”

  
“I don’t… Can I just take your order, sir?”

  
The man grunts heavily in response. “Answer my questions.” He leans toward me threateningly and fiddles with the cash register. He doesn’t take his eyes off mine. “Who else is workin’ tonight? Where’s your manager?”

  
“Um, he’s in the back room somewhere. I can go get him for you if you like,” I squeak. “If you’re upset—” He cuts me off.

  
“That’s all I needed to know,” He says lowly. He turns his gaze downwards. “Say, how much money d’you think is in this cash register?”

  
“I really don’t know, I’m just filling in—”

  
“Why don’t cha open that drawer there and find out for me, hmm?”

  
I stare at him in disbelief, and I feel myself starting to sweat. “I’m n-not allowed to do that, s-sir.”

  
“Is that so…” he spoke slowly, reaching into his pocket. I try to take a step back, but he grabs me by the collar and yanks me forward. I see a glint of silver, and something cold and sharp presses into my neck. My face is close enough to his now that I can smell the stale cigarette smoke on his breath.

  
“Maybe this’ll change your mind, then.” He pushes the knife a little bit further into my skin. “Now, I’ll ask you again; how much cash you got in that register?”

  
“I-I-I don’t kn-know.” I gasp. I try to look around, but the only other customer in the dining area seemed to have left. I’m about to call out for help, but the knife digs into the skin on my throat and stops me. I flinch from the pain while his face goes red with anger.

  
“What the fuck did you just say to me, boy?” He hisses. Spit flies from his mouth onto my cheek and I flinch. He pulls harder on my collar and I can barely breathe. The cash register starts to dig into my hip painfully, and I can hear my heart pounding in my ears.

  
“P-p-please, d-don’t! I’m so-sorry,” I sputter. My vision starts to go blurry with tears. He laughs cruelly, and the next thing I know, my head slams down onto the counter and I fall to the floor. Pain shoots up the side of my face, making me dizzy. I hear a scuffling sound, and suddenly two heavy, worn black boots are right in front of my face.

  
“You little bitch!” He yanks me up from the ground by my hair and wrenches my upper body towards the register. My arms fly up and grab his as I try to lift myself up to lesser the pain. “Now you listen to me, and you listen good,” He seethes in my ear, trying to be quiet in case someone in the back room hears the commotion. “You’re gonna open that there register, and you’re gonna give me all the cash that’s in the drawer. You’re not gonna yell or nothin’ ‘cause if you do, I’ll kill you. Got it?” Tears start running down my face.

  
“Y-yes,” I sob,”I’ll do it, j-just p-please don’t hurt me!” I lift my trembling hands off of his arms and shakily punch in the numbers that open the register. The drawer slides open, but before he can move to take the money, a shout comes from the dining area.

  
“What the fuck are you doing, you scumbag?!” A boy who can’t be more than eighteen stands there, furious. He’s wearing a long sleeved blue shirt and black skinny jeans. He’s a brunet, with smooth olive skin, and long, lanky legs. He’s tall, but shorter than the man hurting me behind the counter. Still, he definitely looks strong enough to take down someone that size. Suddenly, he stomps over to the man holding me up by the hair and grabs a fistful of his shirt. The man lets go of me in surprise, and I scramble away from him with a sob. The boy then yanks the man back over the counter away from me and slams him on the floor. My watery eyes lock with his, and for a split second, his gaze softens. He then turns away from me towards the convict on the floor.

  
“You just made a big mistake,” The younger man seethes, walking over to where the perpetrator lay on the ground. He steps on the attacker’s chest and looks down at him venomously. “My father is on his way. You know, the chief of police, Takashi Shirogane? Yeah, he’s been looking for you. You think you could rob eight fast food joints and not get caught? Your profile is all over the news. Lucky I was just passing by.”

  
_Takashi Shirogane? That can’t be right!_

  
The man’s eyes grow feral, and his expression breaks into a crooked, yellow smile. “ You sure ‘bout that?” The man taunts. “You don’t look like no Asia—” Before he can finish his sentence, he gets a swift, hard kick to the face and goes limp. The brown haired boy sighs and turns around. He grows worried at my shaking form, curled up on the ground with my knees to my chest, and walks towards me.

  
“Are you okay?” He asks gently, jumping behind the counter and squatting in front of me. “You’re bleeding. Hold on a sec’.” He gets up and grabs a napkin from the shelf, running it under the sink next to the cups. He then comes back and gently lifts my chin up with his cool fingers, and gingerly touches it to my neck.

  
“H-he was going to kill me,” I whisper, my hands gripping my knees tightly. “I-I didn’t know what to do. He had a knife. He was gonna kill me.” I keep babbling on and on and pull my knees up to my chest. I can’t shake off the feeling of his rusty switchblade pressing deeper and deeper into my neck.

  
“Shhh, It’ll be okay.” His deep voice soothes some of my shaking. “My father is a police officer. He’s on his way. Did he hurt you anywhere else?” He runs his other hand up and down my arm to try and ease more of my trembling. I shake my head.

  
“My name’s Lance,” he says. I lift my eyes to look at him, and this time, I take in his features. He looks hispanic, with shaggy brown hair that falls down onto his long, angular face. He’s got bright blue eyes, but with a faint ring of gold in the center, barely noticeable even in close proximity. If I squint even closer, I can just make out a light dusting of freckles on his cheeks.

  
“Keith,” I say.

  
“I would’ve never guessed,” he joked, looking down at my name tag.

  
As I open my mouth to respond, I hear footsteps coming from the back kitchen and turn my head. Rolo and Nyma come walking in, double taking at the scene before them.  
“What the hell happened here?” Rolo says, looking from the man on the floor back to me and Lance multiple times. He runs his hands through his hair in frustration.  
“Th-this man tried to rob the store,” I stammer, shakily getting up and pointing at the man lying unconscious on the ground. “He had a knife to my neck. I didn’t know what to do.” Lance gets up and faces them, fists balled tightly.

  
“What the hell were you two doing?” he snaps. He gestures to me with his arm. “He was the only person out here when I walked in. This neighborhood is dangerous. Haven’t you been watching the news? This man is wanted for robbing places like this.” The two McDonald’s workers stand there silently. The sound of police sirens could be heard down the block, faint lights reaching the windows of the establishment.

  
“There were no customers in here,” Nyma replies, obnoxiously chewing her gum. “There only needs to be one person out here. Keith said he could handle it.”

  
Lance opens his mouth, clearly about to yell, but the chime of the door makes him turn his head. A few police officers rush in, going over to the man on the ground and immediately handcuffing him. An older male officer wearing a heavy jacket embroidered with the town’s police insignia approaches the counter. He, unlike Lance, has Asian features, and his black hair is fading white. A thin white scar is painted across the bridge of his nose, but it looks far too faded to be recent.

  
“Lance,” He says, “I appreciate you using the emergency button I gave you, but why the hell were you out in this neighborhood at night? If I were busy somewhere else and couldn’t respond, you could’ve been killed. What would happen if you didn’t know any of that self defense I taught you?”

  
“Sorry, Shiro,” Lance utters, “I was hungry. I know this part of the city’s dangerous at night, but I was too lazy to go somewhere safer.” He turns his head towards me. “When I saw him through the window being manhandled by that guy, I couldn’t just leave him there. You’ve been searching for this dude for months.” His “father” sighs.

  
After a few more moments of being scolded, Lance grabs my arm and gently helps me to a table. He sits down next to me while a paramedic checks over me, cleaning and bandaging my neck. The cut from the knife wasn’t deep enough to need stitches, but would definitely leave at least a faint mark. After a while, a police officer comes over and asks us both questions; if we’ve ever seen this man, what we were doing before he was apprehended, etc. We answer his questions and he goes over to my coworkers. Lance looks over at me and opens his mouth to talk.

  
“Keith, do you have a ride home?” He questions.

  
“No,” I say. “I usually walk.” His eyes grow wide with concern.

  
“Where do you live? I’ll drive you home,” He asks.

  
“On Arusian Street, over by the liquor store,” I murmur. “Apartment 1B.”

  
“Are you serious? That’s like, one of the most dangerous parts of town! And you walk?” He gasps. I shift my gaze downwards towards my feet, ashamed.

  
“It’s the only place I can afford off of this wage. I don’t have money for a car. I try to work as much as possible to pay the bills and just barely scrape by every month. I’m just glad I have a roof over my head.” A wave of embarrassment washes over me.

  
“What about your parents?” Lance wonders, “Can’t they help you?” I go rigid, and he notices. “Sorry, you don’t have to tell me if it’s too much.”

  
“No,” I say softly, “It’s alright. My parents, uh, kicked me out last year. I never finished my senior year of high school. I work so hard just to get by, even if it means enduring shit like this and living somewhere I could be killed.” He looks up in thought for a moment.

  
“Well, why don’t you stay with me?”

  
“I—What?”

  
“My house is big enough. I’m sure Shiro wouldn’t mind. I don’t feel safe knowing that you’ll go back to living over there. You’ll get hurt again. You can save money to move into somewhere better when you’re ready.” I look at him with surprise.

  
“Why?” I breathe, “Why would you want to help me? You’ve done more than enough already.”

  
“I guess by being in a family of police officers, you can’t help but want to protect the people around you.” Lance scratches the back of his head and looks me in the eyes. “So, what will it be, will you stay with me?”

  
“Yes.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance brings Keith back to his house.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this is chapter 2. I have no clue what direction this story is heading in, but I know it's gonna be a rollercoasteeer. This chapter is a little shorter than I originally anticipated. If you see any grammatical mistakes, please let me know.  
> Thanks so so so much for the kudos and positive comments on the last chapter, it really meant a lot.  
> My tumblr is http://2-yuris-1-ice.tumblr.com/  
>  Well, please enjoy chapter 2!!!

The drive to Lance’s house is quiet. I lean my head against the cool window and stare out at the trees and buildings passing by. My eyes grow heavy as I listen to the soft acoustic music emanating out of the radio. Back at the McDonald’s, Shiro agreed to let me stay with them under the condition that I look for another job. He and Lance both seemed genuinely concerned for my well being, which is something that I’m not used to. What will happen if they find out the reason my parents kicked me out? Will they even want to help me, then? Lance’s voice suddenly brings me from my thoughts.

“Keith,” Lance says softly, shaking my arm. He gives me a quick glance and turns his attention back to the road. “Don’t fall asleep yet. We’re almost there.” I nod my head weakly as I try to stifle a yawn. Lance chuckles and pats my arm lightly. After a few more minutes of calm silence, we pull up to a large, white house. My eyes grow as wide as saucers as I stare at the beautiful architecture. “Come on,” he urges, getting out of the car and walking over to the passenger’s seat. “Let’s get you inside. I bet you haven’t eaten in awhile, so we’ll take care of that first. Then we’ll hit the hay.” He tugs me gently out of the car and leads me to the front door. The grass is slippery from the rain and I wobble, but Lance is fast, grabbing my arm before I hit the ground.

“Thanks,” I mumble, cheeks red with embarrassment. We walk to the front door, where he unlocks it and ushers me inside. He then orders me to take off my socks, shoes, and coat. 

“We don’t wanna get mud all over the floors,” Lance whispers. “Mom had a cow the last time that happened. I never did anything to test her wrath after that.”

“What did you do?” I chuckle while shedding my coat.

“This was years ago. Like, a lot of years ago.” He said, a nostalgic look on his face. “Me and my friend, Pidge, were playing ‘Jungle Warriors’. We put mud and leaves all over ourselves and pretended we lived in the woods.” He chuckles. “Well, at the end of the day, it got dark, so we stopped. We didn’t really think to hose ourselves off before we came inside. So, we ran through the house playing tag or something, not realizing we were covered. We got it all over everything.”

“Wow, that must’ve sucked for your mom,” I say.

“Yeah,” he says with a hint of guilt, “I still feel bad about it to this day. It took her three days to get it out of every object in the house.” He sighs and then goes silent.

We finish taking our coats and shoes off, and he grabs my hand and leads me around the corner to a spacious kitchen. I sit down in one of the chairs at the table while he goes over to the fridge. “I made meatloaf the other day,” He says, “There’s still some left over. Would you like some?” I nod.

“You cook?” I ask, resting my elbows against the cool marble of the table.

“From time to time, yeah. I’m not nearly as good as my friend, Hunk, though. That man’s a genius in the kitchen.” He takes the meatloaf out of the fridge, puts some on a plate, then places it in the microwave. 

“Hunk? What kind of a name is that?” 

“I don’t know,” Lance answers, “That’s just his name.” He shrugs 

“Huh,”

We sit there in comfortable silence until the microwave beeps. Lance puts the steaming plate in front of me.

“Bon appetit.” He smiles and sits across from me, watching as I take a forkful and bring it to my lips. The flavor takes over my mouth and my eyes widen. I instantly start scarfing down the rest of my meal. Lance chuckles.

“Dis i’ amazin’!” I swallow the last mouthful and smile. “If your  _ meatloaf _ is this good, I can’t imagine what else you can make!” 

“Thanks,” he says softly, “but I’m no professional.”

“Don't be so modest. You're incredible!” Lance blushes and looks down at his lap. 

“Alright.” He fiddles with his sleeve.

“Hey, uh, do you have any water?” I ask after a few moments of silence. Lance jumps up and gets a glass out of the cabinet.

“Sorry, I totally forgot to offer you a drink. I’m such a bad host.” He shuffles over to the fridge and fills it with ice water. “Here you go, old sport.”

“Um. what?”

“Are you kidding me? The Great Gatsby?” Lance asks, his voice dripping in mock outrage.

“Never read it.” I take the glass out of his outstretched hand. “Thanks, anyway.”

“So…” Lance sits back down while I take a sip. His tone goes from playful to serious in a matter of seconds. “What was it like?”

“What was what like?” I ask cautiously. I can tell this conversation is headed for dangerous waters.

“Getting kicked out, living on your own. What was it like?”

“Well,” I sigh, “I guess the hardest thing was getting back on my feet. For the first couple of months, I was pretty much homeless. I had the job at McDonald’s before I was kicked out, so at least I had a way to get money.” 

“I’m so sorry,” Lance mumbles. “No one should ever be put in a position like that. How old are you again?”

“I’m seventeen,” I answer quietly.

“What, really?” Lance gasps. “Me too. I can’t imagine not having my parents around to support me. Can I ask what happened? Why were you kicked out?” He asks softly. I flinch.

“I… don't want to talk about it,” I murmur. “I appreciate everything you’re doing for me, but I’m not ready to talk about this. Especially after what happened tonight. I’m sorry.” I look down at my plate as Lance reaches across the table, grabbing my hand gently.

“No, I'm sorry, I shouldn't have asked such a personal question.” He strokes my hand lightly with his thumb, giving me a soft look. I shift my gaze to our interlocked fingers, and my heart starts to beat faster. He eventually looks too, and forcefully yanks his arm back in embarrassment.

“U-uh, well,” he stutters, standing up. He glances at the clock. “I think we should hit the sack.” He looks at me, a light dusting of red on his cheeks. He takes my empty plate, puts it in the sink, and leads me upstairs. “I’ll give you something to change into for tonight.” He says. “Tomorrow, I’ll drive you to your apartment so you can get all your stuff.” 

Once we reach the second floor, we shuffle down the hallway until we get to a large blue bedroom. 

“Welcome!” He gushes as he steps inside, gesturing for me to follow. I walk in and stand awkwardly next to the window, looking around. The walls are littered with various posters of bands and movies, and the floor is surprisingly free of dirty clothes. His queen-sized bed is made neatly with a blue patterned comforter and matching pillows. On the other side of the room, his wooden desk is organized with books and papers, most of which are probably assignments from school.

“Is this your room?” I ask, looking around. “I don’t know why, but it doesn’t seem very you.”

“Yeah,” he says, pulling out a t-shirt and pajama pants from his dresser. “I’m sorry for the mess, I wasn’t exactly expecting company tonight.”

“You call this messy? Are you serious?” He shrugs his shoulders and hands me his clothes.

“The bathroom’s down the hall, first door on the left. You can change in there.” I take the garments from him and head out of the room. The polished hardwood floors squeak loudly under my weight, making me wince. As I step into the pristine white bathroom, I stare at my reflection in the mirror. The bags under my eyes are much more prominent than they usually are. A large white bandage covers my neck, speckles of red already soaking through. I gently run my fingers over it, flinching slightly from the pain. 

I take off my uniform shirt and slip Lance’s t-shirt over my head. I bring it up to my nose, inhaling the sweet scent of vanilla and cinnamon. 

_ Lance. _

Even though we just met, I feel so comforted by him. I know next to nothing about him, but the way he talks to me makes me feel like he genuinely cares about me. Maybe I should tell him the reason why I got kicked out. Maybe he’ll actually accept me for who I am.

No. That’s stupid. What am I thinking?

“Keith?” Lance knocks on the door, breaking me from my thoughts. “Did you fall in?”

“No,” I say, pulling on his pajama pants. “I’ll be out in a minute!” I take a few moments to go to the bathroom and brush my teeth. I use a spare toothbrush from the cabinet.

“Lance,” I ask, walking back into his room, “where do I put these?” I hold up my dirty uniform. He gestures to the plastic hamper full of dirty clothes next to the door.

“Just throw them in there.” I toss my garments into his laundry basket and head over to where he’s sitting on his bed. “I’ll take the floor tonight.” he says. “We can clean out the guest bedroom for you after we pick up your stuff tomorrow.” He walks over to the closet and pulls out a sleeping bag and an extra pillow.

“I-I can’t do that,” I stutter. “You’re already doing so much for me already. I can’t possibly take your bed, too.”

“Don’t worry about it. You’ve had a rough enough day as it is. You deserve some well needed rest in a comfortable bed.” Lance stands up and turns off the light.

“A-alright, if you’re sure.” I peel back the blankets and shimmy inside. I almost instantly start to drift off, but a thought crosses my mind. After a few moments, I speak softly. “Lance?” 

“Yeah?” He mumbles.

“I don’t think I said this before, but thanks. Actually, I don’t even think ‘thanks’ is enough. If you hadn’t come in when you did, I don’t even know what that man would have done to me. And then you offer me a place to stay, even though you don’t even know me. I don’t know how I’ll ever pay you and your family back.” I sigh and brush a strand of hair out of my face.

“Keith,” he says gently, sitting up, “you don’t have to pay me back. All I care about is you being safe and able to support yourself. From now on, I refuse to let you take on these burdens alone. I just want you to let me and my family help you.” Tears well up in my eyes at his words.

“Alright,” I sniffle.

“Now,” he says, “go to sleep. We have a busy day ahead of us.” He lays back down and pulls the covers over his shoulders.

“Goodnight, Lance.”

“Night.” 

I listen to his soft breathing until I’m sucked into the abyss of sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We'll get to meet Lance's mom (Allura) next chapter. She's gonna be super fucking cool.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance brings Keith to his apartment to pick up his belongings.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 3!!!! Sorry it took so long, I was experiencing MAJOR writer's block. All aboard the klangst train!!  
> Special thanks to http://supreme-queen-of-the-jelly-fish.tumblr.com/ for helping me write this story.  
> My tumblr is http://2-yuris-1-ice.tumblr.com/  
> Trigger warnings for a slight panic attack.  
> Enjoy!!

The soft sound of snoring wakes me up earlier than usual, and I open my eyes. Lance is still on the floor, obviously the source of the snoring. The dim light streaming through the window hits his face, highlighting the gentle curve of his cheekbones softly. I quietly remove the blankets from my body and tiptoe quietly past him, out the door. As I walk down the stairs, I can smell breakfast cooking and my mouth waters. A woman is standing by the stove, humming a tune that I don't recognize while flipping pancakes. She turns her head as she hears me walk in. 

“Good morning,” She says cheerily, “you must be Keith. I made some breakfast, please help yourself.” She speaks with an accent, one that I’ve never heard before. “I'm Lance’s mom, but you can call me Allura.” She’s a young woman, probably no older than forty, with olive colored skin like Lance, but a darker shade. She has long, silver hair that still looks silky despite being bleached and dyed.

“Th-thank you for the pancakes, Miss Allura.” I stutter nervously. 

She smiles and gestures for me to sit down.

“I heard about what happened last night,” she says softly, scooping up a large quantity of bacon and putting it on my plate. I shove a forkful of pancake into my mouth and nod slowly, avoiding her kind, but piercing gaze. “Do you want to talk about it?” I stiffen. Vivid memories of the man and his deadly knife come back into my mind. My hand grazes the bandage on my neck and I flinch.

“Um, n-not really.”

“Keith… It might help to talk about it.” She set her spatula on the counter and sighed.

“T-thank you, but I'm just not ready.” I put my fork down and shove my hand in between my knees. My gaze turns downward to my lap and I bite my lip anxiously. Her eyes soften with concern.

“Well, when you are, please don’t hesitate to talk to one of us. We want to help you through this.”

I don’t know how to respond, so I shrug. I'm completely out of my depth here. My parents never would have said something like that. Now that I think about it, my parents never really showed any compassion towards me when something was wrong. 

“Ooh, is that bacon I smell?” Lance chimes in from out of the blue, and I jump. “Oh hey Keith! When'd you get here?” 

“A few minutes ago,” Allura says, handing him a plate of breakfast. “What are you boys doing today?”

“We were gonna go to Keith’s old apartment to pick up his stuff.” Lance answers

“You boys be careful.” Allura says.

“Of course.” We finish breakfast fairly quickly, and and get ready just as fast. Lance gives me a change of clothes since all I have are my stained work ones. He’s a bit taller than me, so they’re a little big, but it sure beats the bloodstained t-shirt I was wearing yesterday.  It’s not long before we’re both ready to leave for my shitty old apartment. We get in the car and head out. Lance drives. I grow increasingly anxious. What will he think of me when he sees the shithole I’ve been living in for the past six months?

“What’s the street number again?” Lance asks after a few minutes of silence.  
“500. It’s a big building, across the street from that liquor store. You can’t miss it.” I reply. He nods and continues driving. It’s on the other side of town from Lance’s house, only about a ten minute drive, but it feels longer. Finally, he pulls in, frowning.

“Wasn’t there a shooting outside this building a few months ago? I think I saw something about it on the news.” I shrink back into my seat and shrug. I was hoping he wouldn’t bring that up.

“I don’t know. That kind of thing happens a lot around here.” Lance looks at me in a way that I wish that he wouldn’t.

“Shit. And you  _ live _ here? Or lived, I should say, since you’re  _ never _ coming back here.” 

“It was all I could afford…” I mumble, attempting to blend into my seat, and failing miserably. Lance parks the car with close to the main entrance and takes the key out of the ignition. The engine sputters to a halt.

“Well, here we are. Lead the way, Keith.” we both exit the car and head to the main doors. “After you.” Lance says, holding it open for me. 

“Thanks.” I reply quietly. My palms begin to sweat as we pass through the hallway. The elevator has a piece of paper taped to it with the words “out of order” scrawled messily across it in black. “Typical.” I murmur, annoyed but not surprised. We’re forced to take the stairs. The stairwell is narrow, and Lance walks behind me.

“This has  _ got  _ to be a fire hazard.” 

“I know. Luckily there haven’t been any fires while I was living here.”

My apartment is on the first floor, so we only have to climb one flight of stairs, which is good. Actually, it’s the only good thing about this place. One of the worst things about this place is waiting for me when I reach my door: the resident of apartment 1A, Dennis.

“Hey, you little bitch, where’s my money?” He greets. I want to give him some smartass response, but I don’t dare, so I say nothing.

“Huh? What was that, bitch? I said, Give me my fuckin’ money!” He reminds me of the man who tried to rob me last night and I shudder, but otherwise try to ignore him. Lance puts a hand on my arm while I struggle to unlock the door.

“Look we’re not here to argue. How much?” He asks pulling out his wallet.

“ _ Lance, don’t! _ ” I hiss.

“Two hundred.”

“ _ Dollars?”  _ Lances chokes.

“Oh, no, two hundred pennies. Yes,  _ dollars.  _ Fuckin’ moron.”

“ _ I don’t have two hundred dollars on me! Who carries around two hundred dollars?” _

Dennis suddenly shoves Lance to the side and advances rapidly toward me, grabbing a fistful of my shirt. I can actually feel the blood draining from my face. I can’t see myself but I can tell I probably look bad, because Dennis exhales and actually lets me go.

“You have one week. If your ass isn’t back here with my money by then you better hope that I don’t find you.” I gulp and nod my head vigorously. He lets go of my shirt and shoves me towards the door. Lance recovers from being pushed into the wall and goes to hit Dennis, but he stops when he sees me scramble inside the apartment. My feet move me automatically to where I collapse on the ratty couch. I’m finding it difficult to breath, and I start to panic more.

“Hey, are you okay?” Lance asks gently, sitting beside me. He rubs soothing circles into my back to try and calm me down enough to speak. I shake my head and push my face into my knees. All I can think about is the man from yesterday, and how he manhandled me. I can feel the sharpness of his blade digging into my neck as he pins my body to the counter. His hot, stale breath washes over my face and I try to struggle. His knife digs further into my neck, blood oozing from the deep wound. He pushes me up against the counter harder, squeezing all of the air out of my body—

“Shh, don’t hurt yourself.” A voice suddenly brings me into reality. Someone’s gentle hand touches my arm and brings it away from my throat. I feel my body being maneuvered until I’m face first with a strong, solid surface that smells of vanilla and cinnamon.

_ Lance. _

“You’re alright,” he says gingerly, “he’s not gonna hurt you. You’ll be safe with me, I promise.” My vision slowly comes back to me, and I realize that we’re still on the couch, but our positions have changed. He’s lying back against the armrest, me on top of him and curled against his chest. He cards his fingers through my hair when I start to sob into his shirt.

We lay there for what feels like hours, and finally my hysterical crying starts to calm into soft whimpers. 

“Are you alright now?” He asks tenderly. He delicately moves me up off of his body and gets up from the couch. I wipe my damp eyes and walk towards my bedroom.

“Yeah, thanks.” I whisper. “I’m sorry you had to see that. I know I’m pathetic for crying over something as stupid—”  He grabs my hand and stops me.

“Don’t. You have nothing to apologize for.”

“I- Alright.”

We make our way into my cramped bedroom and I start pulling the little clothing I have out of the dresser. All I really own is a couple of shirts and pants, plus my McDonald’s uniform. Lance gapes at me.

“Are you serious? This is all you have?!” He opens the closet door, and is met with a few stray hangers and a pair of worn sneakers. He takes the garbage bag filled with my clothes out of my hands and looks through it.

“Well, yeah,” I say, embarrassed, “it’s not like I can really afford anything other than food and rent.” I sigh. “Look, I have all my stuff together and I really don’t wanna be here longer than I have to. Can we just go back to your house now?” 

He puts the garbage bag down and looks at me with a smirk. “I guess this calls for drastic measures.” He pulls out his phone and starts tapping on the screen wildly. After several seconds, he puts it back in his pocket and grabs my hand, swiftly leading me out of the apartment and back to his car.

“Where are we going?” I ask nervously.

“We’re taking you shopping.” He speeds down the road like a madman and I grip the door with white knuckles.

“We?”

“Hunk and Pidge are coming along. They’re fashion experts.” 

“You don’t have to do this, Lance. I already owe you so much—” He interrupts me.

“You don’t owe me anything, Keith. Believe it or not, I  _ want _ to help you.”  He reaches over and pats my leg. “I’m here for you. Let me help. You deserve good things, too.” He looks at me for a second and smiles.

“Th-thank you, Lance. I really do appreciate everything you’re doing for me.” I lean back in the seat and press my head against the window. Lance miraculously shows up and saves my life, offers me a place to live, and is now buying me new clothes? I don’t deserve any of this. He shouldn’t waste his energy on someone as pathetic as me. He’s strong, handsome, and smart, while I’m the opposite. 

I look over at him. The sun hits his face perfectly, making him look like some sort of Greek God. My heart starts to pound faster as I study his features more. He looks at me and smiles again, and I blush. Suddenly I come to a realization.

Am I falling for him?


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Poor Keith.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> heyyyyyy..... sorry its been like a month, I've been super busy. Thanks for all the positive comments tho, I'm glad you all like it. This chapter has bad homophobia in it, just a warning. I'd like to thank http://supreme-queen-of-the-jelly-fish.tumblr.com/ for helping me write this chapter. My tumblr is 2-yuris-1-ice.tumblr.com  
> Enjoyyyyyy!!!!

Hunk and Pidge meet us at The Twin Pines Mall a few hours later. They are an odd looking pair, but quite the opposite looking. Hunk really lives up to his name. He’s about six foot two and has the build of a football player; Heavy, but more muscular than overweight. He has slightly darker skin and hair than Lance. He’s wearing mostly the color yellow, and normally I’d find that slightly tacky, but it suits him. Pidge, on the other hand, is about five feet tall. She’s pretty small, especially next to Hunk. She’s sporting round glasses, short brown hair, and a green and white jacket. 

“Hey, guys,” Lance says as we approach his friends, “thanks for meeting us here. This is my buddy, Keith.” 

“H-hi.” I stammer awkwardly, extending my arm for a handshake. Hunk and Pidge exchange looks and both grab my hand in greeting, one after the other.

“So you’re the fabled Keith we’ve been hearing so much about in the last twenty four hours.” Pidge says. I raise my eyebrow at Lance and he shrugs. “Don’t worry, they’re all good things.” She gives me a wink and I can feel my face heat up.

“So, Lance,” Hunk says, “why exactly did you tell us to meet you here? I was kind of in the middle of perfecting my crème brûlée.”

“It was a fashion emergency. Trust me, the crème brûlée can wait.” He shifts his gaze over towards me. “Keith is in need of some new attire. I had to lend him some of my clothes. I couldn’t let him go out in public like that.” Lance fake shudders, and I punch him on the arm lightly.

“My clothes aren’t  _ that  _ bad.” I protest. Lance looks at me and puts a hand on my shoulder.

“Keith, you need to stop lying to yourself. I saw your stuff. Atrocious.” My gaze turns to Hunk and Pidge, who are staring at me with concerned gazes. I can feel my face go red again.

“Lance-” He cuts me off.

“And that McDonald’s uniform? Blegh.” He says mockingly.

“Lance, stop-”

“I mean, that’s like the only thing you own, who in their right mind would walk around in  _ that _ ?”

“Well it’s not my fault!” I half yell. I don’t want other people to know how pathetic I am. “It’s hard to get things you want when you barely have enough money to eat. It’s not—” I can feel tears pricking the corners of my eyes and I stop myself.

“Keith… don’t. It was a joke. I’m sorry.” Lance looks at me with concern. He grabs my hand and squeezes it lightly.

“Should we like, leave you two alone?” Hunk butts in, looking at our interlocked hands.

“N-no,” I whisper, pulling my hand away. “It’s fine.”

“Okay…” He answered, although he didn’t sound completely convinced

“Okay!” Pidge cuts in, breaking the awkwardness. “Let’s go shopping!” 

Pidge leads the way to the first store, H&M. The clothes in here look a little high end, but I feel like any complaining I do won’t make a difference. We spend a good forty five minutes there, me mostly in the dressing room while Hunk, Lance, and Pidge hand me various items of clothing.

After finding a few shirts and pairs of pants, they drag me half way across the mall to find a shoe store. The soles of my sneakers are practically falling off and they rub up against the backs of my ankles roughly.

“Alright,” Lance says, gesturing for me to sit down. “What size are your feet?”

Uh,” I take off my shoe and look at the number inside. “Five?” They all gape at me.

“Seriously?” Pidge exclaimed. “I’m a midget and even my feet are bigger than that.”

“Sorry?” I utter. “I’ve always had small feet.”

“Nevermind that,” Lance says “let’s find you some shoes. Stay right here, I’ll be back in a sec.” He gives me a wink and struts down the aisle and out of sight. Hunk turns to me.

“He really likes you, you know.” He smiles.

“What do you mean?” I ask. I shift my gaze up towards his face, but don’t look him in the eyes.

“He’s never this nice.” Pidge states. “Especially with people he doesn’t know very well.”

“Yeah, it’s because of what happened last year.” Hunk mutters.

“What happened last year?” I question. Hunk goes stiff.

“Ah, I-I  shouldn’t have said that…” Hunk stutters. He scratches the back of his head and turns around quickly at the sound of approaching footsteps. 

“How about these?” Lance asks, holding up a box of red Chuck Taylor’s. He takes one out and puts it on the ground next to my foot. “Here, try it on.”

“Aren’t these kind of shoes expensive?” I ask. “You don’t have to do that for someone like me.” Lance gives me a stern look.

“Just try on the damn shoes, will you?”

“A-alright.” I take the shoe and put it on. It fits just perfectly, but I get up to walk around just to make sure. It feels nice to wear something that doesn’t constantly give me blisters. “Hey it fits.” Lance flashes me a grin.

“Ok lets get them, cinderella.” he says, offering me his hand. I blush at the nickname, but take it anyway. Hunk and Pidge share a look, smirking at each other.

“I think Keith could really use a pair of crocs.” Pidge suggests jokingly, picking up a display shoe.

“No. Please no.” Lance shudders. “Crocs are… awful.” He then leads us over to the register to pay. I almost protested again when I heard the total amount, but I knew it wouldn’t do me any good. 

“Who’s hungry?” Lance asks as we exit the store. Hunk and Pidge both raise their hands. Lance looks at me questioningly.

“I-I guess.” I say.

“Food court it is, then.” Lance takes the lead, Hunk and Pidge right behind him. I trail back a few paces, thinking. Lance just spent a ton of money on me and I can’t think of anything I did to deserve it. A few days ago he was a complete stranger, and now he’s letting me stay at his house and buying me new clothes? It just doesn’t seem right… 

“Hey Keith? Keith?” Hunk turns around and notices that I’m falling behind; Lance and Pidge stop as well.

“You coming?” he asks. 

“What? Oh— yeah. Sorry.” I have to jog to catch up with them. Lance smiles warmly at me and I feel a little better. For now. He’ll be hearing about it later for sure. 

We settle for some Thai food and find a small table near the back. It’s nice. We talk and joke while we eat. Lance’s friends don’t seem to hate me. Yet. Lance slurps his noodles like a little kid, and I can’t help but watch.

“So, Keith?” Pidge asks after a while, but I barely register what she says.

“What?” I respond, a little late, still slightly distracted by Lance and his noodles. She elbows Hunk.

“Ouch! What was that—”

“Why don’t we leave these two alone? They look a bit… preoccupied.” She tells him. I’m not even looking at her, but I can practically hear the smirk in her voice.

“Oh. Right. See ya, Lance. Keith.” Lance waves goodbye, but furrows his brows as soon as they leave.

“What do y’think that was about?” Lance says through a mouthful of food. 

“Not sure.” I answer, quickly finishing the last few bites of my own food. Lance shifts his head out of my field of vision for a second and I see something, or rather someone, who I wasn’t expecting, and a feeling of dread sets in.

“No. No no no. Lance, we have to go. Like, now.”

“What? Why? I’m not even done with my noodles!” Lance complains. My heart stops. Or is it racing? I can’t tell. All I know is that I need to get out of here before they see me.

“Keith!” Lance shoves his chair back and crouches next to me, worry on his face. “What happened? Are you okay? Talk to me!”

“T-they’re here,” I stammer. “Oh, God, they’re gonna find me!” I try to dive under the table discreetly, but I’m already making a scene. Lance puts a hand on my shoulder.

“Keith. It’s okay.” He says in a would be soothing voice, but they’re turning around and it doesn’t have the effect he intended. It does the opposite of calm me down. I try to pry his hand off of my shoulder roughly.

“Get. Off. Me. Please…”

“No! Keith, what’s going on?”

“They’re here. This can’t be happening right now.” I whisper. I bring my eyes up and wildly look around the dining area. The couple I saw just moments before locks gazes with me and the last thing I see before I squeeze my eyes shut is two pairs of feet making their way toward us.

“Keith, who are those people?” Lance asks quietly.

“No one. I-I don’t even know them.” I lie. Lance says nothing, his lips forming a thin line.  _ Don’t look at him _ I tell myself. I want nothing more than to be back in my shitty old apartment, Lance’s arms tight around me as we sit on the couch. I want to bury my face in his shoulder, but I can’t, because they’re standing right in front of me. I don’t even realize I’m crying, but my face is wet with tears.  

“What’s this?” The woman says with a sneer. “We kick you out and you’ve found yourself a boyfriend already?” Lance gasps. I cover my ears with both of my hands, trying to block out their voices.

“We saw your faggot ass on the news this morning,” the man spits. “He should’ve killed you when he had the chance. Freaks like yourself don’t deserve to be alive.”

“Who do you think you are?!” Lance yells. “Get the fuck away from him! He doesn’t need toxic people like you in his life!” He gets up and stands in between me and my parents. 

“Shut up, Fag!” My father seethes. “I’ll say whatever I please about that abomination! And you can go straight to Hell with him!”

“You first!” Lance hisses. I grab his arm and try to pull him away; we’re attracting a crowd as it is. 

“L-Lance,” I whimper, “Please, l-let’s just go.  _ Please _ .” I can feel the tears falling harder down my face. He ignores me. He seems to be caught up in some sort of standoff with my father, and neither of them looked like they would be stepping down any time soon.

Suddenly, someone who appears to be with security walks over to us.

“Sir, I’m gonna have to ask both of you to leave. You seem to be causing a ruckus.”

“You can’t tell me what to do! I can say whatever the fuck I want to these mfucking sinners!”

“Sir, you’re disturbing the other shoppers. I won’t ask you again.”

“Fine, whatever! But you’ll be hearing from our lawyers!” My dad spits at the man, but he and my mother turn to leave. 

“You boys alright?” The officer asks.

“Yes, thank you.” Lance answers. He turns back to me and crouches down once again.

“Keith, buddy, let’s go home, alright?” He whispers gently. I nod, still crying silently. Lance takes my arm gently and leads me back to his car. It’s not a very long drive back to Lance’s house, but neither of us speak. More than once, Lance tries to catch my eye in the rear-view mirror, but I can’t bring myself to look at him. He knows. I can’t tell what he’s thinking, but guessing by the way he’s looking at me, it can’t be good. He’s been so nice to me these past few days, and now he probably hates me. That thought only makes me want to cry harder, and I have to bite down on my lip to stop myself from outright sobbing. Soon enough, Lance pulls into his driveway.

“Keith… why don’t you go inside. Don’t worry about your stuff. I’ll bring it in for you.”

“O-ok.” I whisper. My hand shakes when I try to undo my seatbelt, and when I try to open Lance’s front door. Allura is sitting on couch in the living room when I walk in, reading a book with the television on. I try to sneak past her, but of course I have to stub my toe on a table, and  _ of course _ it makes an impossibly loud sound. She turns around with a calm gaze but immediately her face fills with worry.

“Keith, what’s wrong? Did something happen?” she asks. My eyes go wide. I don’t want to talk about what just happened at the mall. She puts her book down, pauses the television and steps toward me. “Keith? Are you alright?” My throat starts to close up. I shake my head and run into the hallway, opening the first door I see, slamming it shut, and locking it. I stand with my back against the door and slide to the floor with my knees to my chest. I can’t face her right now, not when I’m a crying mess like this. 


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> HEY MAN

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey, so this is chapter 5!!!  
> so i'm starting college next week so idk how often i'll be able to work on this but i will as much as i can. Thanks for all the kudos and compliments!  
> Enjoy!!!!

“Keith! Open the door!” Lance says, his voice laced with worry. I can’t let him in. Now that he knows I’m gay, what would he do? He probably wants me gone, and I wouldn’t blame him. Not even my parents wanted me around after they found out. I'm just an abomination, like they said.

  
“Keith, honey,” Allura says calmly. “Please, open the door.”

  
“N-no. go away.” I sob. I’m almost hyperventilating at this point. I can’t believe my parents showed up at the mall. They already ruined everything for me, and now they ruined this too? What am I gonna do? Where am I gonna go? I guess I’ll have to move back into my apartment after this. That thought only makes me want to cry harder.

  
“Keith, please. We want to help you. Is this about your parents?” Lance asks, gently and firmly at the same time. It makes my heart flutter, but I squash the feeling almost as quickly as it happens. Lance would never be okay with… that.

  
“Go away…” I whisper hoarsely. I’m not sure if Lance doesn’t hear me, or just decides to ignore me on purpose.

  
“I’m gonna go get the key.” He says, probably to Allura. I bury my head further into my knees as I listen to his retreating footsteps.  
The next thing I know the door creaks open and a figure crouches in front of me. I don’t look up from between my legs.

  
“Keith, please talk to me.” Lance whispers desperately. He gently caresses my arm, but I shy away from his touch and wildly shake my head. “Hey, man, it’s okay. Your parents can’t hurt you anymore. You’re safe here.”

  
“No, It’s not okay! You know that I’m—” but I’m too busy choking on my words to finish that sentence.

  
“I know that you’re— what?” I look up finally, meeting his eyes with mine. We lock gazes for a few moments and realization crosses his features.

  
“Keith… why would I judge you for something you can’t help? I don’t care that you’re gay at all. In fact, if it makes you feel better, I’m not really straight myself…” Lance says sheepishly.

  
“...What?” I stare at him in shock.

  
“I thought it was kind of obvious…” He chuckles and sits down on the floor, putting his arm around me. He pulls me into his chest and sighs. “We’re all here for you.” His voice is quiet and comforting. “We won’t be like your asshole parents. Nobody should have to go through what you did.”

  
I bury my face in his shirt, willing myself not to start crying again. I’m so overcome with emotion that I can’t really think of anything good to say, so I wrap my arms tightly around him instead.

  
“Shhh...It’s gonna be okay.” He says, tracing soothing circles into my back with his hand. We stay like that on the bathroom floor for hours, although it could’ve been days for all I cared.

  
It’s almost dark by time I finally compose myself enough to be able to talk without immediately bursting into tears. Or maybe I’m just out of tears. Either way, It feels a lot better knowing that Lance doesn’t hate me like my parents do.

  
“Alright, Keith, buddy. Time to get up.”

  
“Why?” I ask, my voice still a little bit croaky. Suddenly my legs turn to lead and I go limp in his arms. Who knew that crying took so much energy? “I want to stay here.” I mumble, slightly muffled by his shirt.

  
“I’d love to, but I can’t feel my legs.”

  
“That’s okay. You don’t need them right now anyway.”

  
“If you don’t get up in ten seconds I’m pushing you on the floor.” Lance jokes.

  
“You wouldn’t.” I say sleepily. “Those tiles look cold.”

  
“Watch me…” he pauses, and I count ten seconds in my head, then brace myself for the impact, but it never comes. Lance lets out a sigh. “You’re right. I wouldn’t. But you still have to get up.”

  
“Will you carry me?” I ask, too exhausted to move.

  
“Maybe. Maybe not.” he says, smirking. I look up at him with pleading eyes. He sighs softly, gently scooping my thin frame into his arms. “How does he do that…?” Lance mutters to himself, before stumbling slightly on his way out of the bathroom. He carries me up the stairs and into his room, setting me gently down onto his bed. I glance up at him questioningly.

  
“What—”

  
“I’ll be right back,” Lance says, “stay right here.”

  
I nod. He comes back a few minutes later carrying a massive pile of pillows and blankets and throws them down on the bed next to me.  
“What are all these for?”

  
“We’re watching a movie. C’mon, scooch over.” he says, getting into the bed next to me. He puts multiple blankets and pillows around us and puts his laptop on both our laps. “Any requests?” I shake my head.

  
“I’m not really a big movie watcher,” I murmur. “I never really had time for that. Also I couldn’t really afford a TV or a laptop.”  
“So you’ve never watched Star Wars?”

  
“Nope.”

  
“Back to the Future?”

  
“Uh, no?”

  
“What about Disney? You must’ve seen some Disney movies when you were a kid.” He says, genuinely surprised. I shake my head again, embarrassed.

  
“My parents never let me watch those kind of movies. Said princesses were for girls.” He looks at me with a sad expression.

  
“Well, we can change that if you want. Besides, not all Disney movies are about princesses.”

  
“They’re not?”

  
“Of course not! How about The Emperor's New Groove? Oh, I know, Meet the Robinsons! I think you’ll like that one. It was my favorite when I was younger.”

  
I nod my head. “A-alright then.” While Lance browses through illegal movie websites, I take a moment to study his complexion. He’s so beautiful, I think to myself. Why would he want to help me?I’m practically a stranger, and even if he doesn’t care about my sexuality, I’m still pathetic. I’ve had two mental breakdowns today, why is he still letting me stay here?

  
“Yoo-hoo, Keith,” Lance says, waving his hand in front of my face. I must have been zoning out. “You ok? I know today was pretty stressful, if you wanna just go to sleep instead, that’s okay—”

  
“No,” I interrupt. “It’s fine. I was just...thinking.” I start to fiddle with the edge of the blanket, but Lance takes my hand, and gives me a soft look.  
“Whatever it is, you know you can tell me, right?”

  
“Well… it’s just… I don’t know. I just don’t understand why you’re being so… nice to me.” Lance sighs.

  
“I don’t know if you remember this, but we used to go to elementary school together. I was such an ass to you. I always thought you were trying to one-up me in some way, and I hated you for that. I kind of made you my self-proclaimed rival, so it’s not surprising if you intentionally removed me from your memory.” I stare at him and the memories come flashing back into my brain.

  
“That was you?” He nods, a look of sorrow plastered on his face.

  
“After you transferred schools in the third grade, I started to realize how shitty I was towards you. It wasn’t until I saw you at the McDonald’s and you told me your name that I realized who you were.” He lets out a shaky breath. “I’m so fucking sorry, Keith.”

  
“It’s fine, Lance. It wasn’t really that big of a deal, that was like ten years ago. But why are you doing this for me now?”

  
“Well, because, you deserve a better life, that’s why.” Lance says. “From now on, you won’t be put down by your parents. You won’t have to live in a dangerous place. You’re safe here with us.”

  
“Thank you—”

  
“Boys,” Suddenly, Allura appears in the doorway holding two steaming mugs and a bowl of popcorn. “I figured you both would like a little snack while you watch your movie.” She sets the bowl down on the table next to Lance’s bed and hands us both a cup of homemade hot chocolate. She turns to me. “Keith, honey, are you alright? You had me quite worried there.”

  
“U-uh, yeah,” I stutter. “I’ve just been having a rough day. Thanks.”

  
“Glad to see you’re doing better.” She walks towards the door, turns around, and smiles. “If you boys need anything, just give me a shout,” She says, disappearing down the hallway.

  
“Alright,” Lance says, turning to me, “shall we?” I nod. He switches his bedside lamp off and presses the play button.

  
It only takes me about ten minutes into the movie before I’m invested. The protagonist, Lewis, is a genius who grows up in an orphanage. But because he’s so passionate about science, the families that come to interview him for adoption never like him. Like me, all he wants is a family that will love him for who he is. I guess that’s why I find this movie so relate-able.

  
As the movie continues on, my eyes begin to grow heavy. I subconsciously lean my body towards Lance every few minutes; and I only notice when he puts his arm around my shoulders and pulls me in towards him.

  
“You okay?” Lance whispers.

  
“MmmHmm…” I respond, closing my eyes.

  
“Do you want me to pause the movie?”

  
“Nah, ‘s good…” I say, slurring my words slightly.

  
Lance runs his fingers through my hair, and a warm, fuzzy feeling washes over me. Eventually, I feel Lance shut his computer and put it on the bedside table. He lays down and gently pulls me closer to him.


End file.
